


Full-Time Job

by JennyBunny65



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Office Romances are not Pepper-approved, Pre-Movie(s), Romantic Friendship, Tony Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyBunny65/pseuds/JennyBunny65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say behind every great man, there is a great woman.<br/>This is especially true in the case of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I posted, but I was rewatching Iron Man the other day and it inspired this fic. Based on movies, so it doesn't follow comic canon. Reviews are always appreciated!

“No, Anna – Anna! Slow down. You’re not serious – _England_?”

Pepper Potts stopped suddenly, much to the annoyance of the commuters shuffling around her. One man gave her a particularly dirty look as he crashed into her, glaring and sending her a one-fingered salute as he scurried away.

 _Yeah, same to you, buddy_.

“Just, hold on a minute, okay? Let me find a place I won’t get run over or cause a pileup.”

“ _I thought you were walking?_ ” came the puzzled reply from Pepper’s cell.

“I am. I was being – well, never mind.” Pepper ducked into a narrow pocket of emptiness – the storefront of an out-of-business shwarma place – and sat on the stairs, placing next to her the beverage carrier containing two cups of steaming, overpriced coffee.

“Now, start from the beginning. I thought you and Chad broke up?”

Anna’s voice filtered through the phone, tripping over syllables in her excitement. “ _He just showed up and told me that he’d made a huge mistake and he wants me to come with him! He says he’s finally ready to be a mature adult and support a family and, Pepper, he wants to get married!_ ”

Pepper checked the bars on her phone. Yes, her service was fine. Which meant the buzzing was only in her shell-shocked head.

“Yes, but, _England_?” Pepper asked weakly. Her heart was trembling, but she couldn’t let her roommate – ex-roommate, it seemed – hear her panic. After all, Anna was her friend, and she really was happy for her, but…

“England?”

Anna sighed impatiently, a great gust of breath that mirrored the wind howling around Pepper. It tugged at her hair, her clothes, urging her to _hurry home and stop her!_

“ _Yes, well, you know his firm transferred him over there, and really, I’m glad that he’s taking his job seriously. Oh, Pepper, can’t you see? This is finally my chance for a happily-ever-after, fairytale romance. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I love Chad!_ ”

You didn’t love him two days ago, thought  Pepper darkly, but she won’t say that out loud. Not now, when Anna’s so happy Pepper can see her glowing through the phone lines.

“I am happy for you, sweetie, really. It’s just…the rent…”

“ _I know. And I’m sorry to dump this on you what with you losing your job and everything, but you know you’re always telling me to carpe diem and all that. Well, honey, it’s finally my day to seize!_ ”

“I understand.” Pepper stood slowly, hearing the sound of frantic packing in the background. She could picture it now – Anna’s curly black hair flying into her eyes and mouth as she spun in frantic circles, trying to make sure she had her deodorant and hairbrush packed. She’d probably forget something important, like her wallet or her laptop, and as soon as she landed she’d be calling Pepper and begging her to ship over the forgotten items. Impulsive and scatterbrained, that was Anna, and these spur-of-the-moment decisions never ended well for her – at least, not in the 20 years Pepper had known her.

But it was too late. Pepper could tell now that this phone call was a courtesy, nothing more. She’d gone out for coffee for fifteen minutes, and when she’d return, it would be to an empty apartment she could no longer afford on her own.

“ _Pepper? You okay, sweetie? I’m sorry, I really have to pack, Chad will be back any minute…_ ”

The call went dead, and it took Pepper three slow seconds before she realized she’s dropped her phone. It was an ancient model, a flip phone that fell apart with no encouragement whatsoever. Sure enough, when Pepper went to retrieve it, she saw the battery had fallen out who-the-hell-knew-where.

“Perfect,” she muttered.

Phone reassembled, Pepper grabbed her drink carrier and sat on the bench of an abandoned bus stop. She hadn’t ridden the bus in ages – she’d been saving her money carefully ever since her firm had “downsized” and she’d been left jobless.  Right now, she couldn’t care less. The wind was really starting to pick up, her feet where aching from the heels she’d worn to a job interview that morning (she hadn’t had time to change before Anna sent her straight back outside on a quest for caffeine), and she currently had two cups of coffee and no one to drink them with. She was going to be evicted from her apartment, and all she really had to pack was her stack of Help Wanted ads currently testing the strength of her TV-tray-sized desk.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to herself. “I’m going to be _homeless_.”

Pepper Potts did not do homeless. Pepper Potts had worked from a young age to be successful in everything she did. Pepper Potts got up at 6 am to jog around the city and reported to work promptly by 9, shower-fresh and ready to slay dragons, if that’s what her job demanded. Pepper Potts was efficient, she was dependable, and she was self-sufficient, damn it.

 _Dang_ it. Pepper Potts did not swear, because Pepper Potts was a mature adult.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be a dick or anything, since your face looks kind of tragic and heartbroken right now, but then stuff like that’s never bothered me before. So. Are you going to drink both of those?”

Pepper glanced up, surprised that anyone would dare bother her in the middle of her crisis. Could this man not see that her world was imploding?

 Well, good. Don’t let him see. Strength, confidence, poise, Potts.

The man wasn’t older than her, she thought; or if he was, it wasn’t by much. He was wearing (nicely-tailored) tan pants and a navy jacket – he would’ve look right at home on a yacht, smoking a cigar and drinking brandy, if he hadn’t been wearing old tennis shoes and a cheap pair of aviator sunglasses from the vendor down the block.

“Excuse me?” asked Pepper, infusing her voice with all the confidence she could muster. Heaven forbid this man try to hit on her right now.

“It’s just, that extra coffee looks like it’s causing all kinds of mental anguish for you. So I thought I’d be a good neighbor and take it off your hands. Plus, it’s freezing and I really want coffee.”

“Sure, take it.” What was the point in refusing him? What was the point of anything? Oh, what if she had to become a prostitute? She couldn’t handle that kind of lifestyle! What if –

“What is it?”

“Sorry?” Control yourself, Potts, you’re not going to end up a hooker. Not today.

“The coffee?” He gestured towards the carrier, and Pepper noticed the watch on his right wrist.

Wow. Definitely right at home on a yacht.

“Oh, the one on the right is a caramel macchiato, and the other is just plain black coffee.”

She was about to add, _“And it’s mine,”_ but the stranger already plucked it out of the carrier.

“Hmm. Dark roast. Costa Rican? Good taste. See how random acts of kindness can make someone’s day a little brighter?” He tilted the cup towards her in a mock toast, before turning to stroll away.

“You’re welcome!” Pepper shouted back at him, exasperated. “Wish someone would make my day, for once.”

The latter was muttered under her breath, but evidently the stranger heard, because he spun almost comically on his heel and jogged back to her.

“Bad day? Let me guess…boyfriend dumped you? No? Girlfriend, then? Don’t give me that look, I’m just being progressive, sheesh. Your dog died – no, your cat died. No, you don’t seem like much of a cat person. You just won the lottery but on the way to redeem your ticket you were mugged by some hoodlum teens in saggy pants and all you have left in the world are these two cups of coffee? You – ”

“My roommate is eloping. To England, of all places.” Pepper wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, except that the person she would usually vent her feelings to was halfway to the airport at this point.

“Ah, England. I have fond memories of that country. Actually, I can’t remember much of my trip, but there’re some excellent pictures – ”

Pepper rolled her eyes, and maybe he could tell she wasn’t in much of a friendly mood, because he paused thoughtfully for a moment. “People come and go, you know? You’ll get over it.” Which was strangely comforting. Perhaps because it was the most honest response to her situation, not the usual litany of empty promises.

“In the meantime, I have to either convince my landlord to take pity on me or find a new place to live. I can’t pay for it without Anna.”

The words slipped out, unbidden; though Pepper couldn’t see much of the man’s face, there was something almost endearing about the laugh lines folded around his grinning mouth.

“You know, if your job isn’t paying enough, I hear Stark Industries is hiring.”

“I don’t know much about weapons technology,” admitted Pepper. “I’m more the secretary, event-planner type. Or at least, I was.”

“Great, then. It’s settled. Tony Stark is looking for a new PA.”

“Tony Stark? As in, _the_ Tony Stark? I thought he renounced his claim on the company years ago.” Pepper always made a point to stay updated on current events, and the story of the black sheep rejecting his father’s business empire had dominated the news more than once in the past few years.

The stranger stood, draining the last of his coffee and cramming the empty cup back into the carrier. “Well, word on the street is, he’s back and ready to take the company by storm. Or something. Check tomorrow’s papers, you’ll see. And when I’ve been fully validated, drop off an application. Stark Industries is way into finding new faces.”

Pepper wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by this supposed omniscience or the rudeness (he could very well throw his own cup away!), but before she could reply, he was already walking away.

“Best of luck to you, Pepper!” he called over his shoulder, before a sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. The man slid inside without another backwards glance.

Pepper sat in shock, wondering how on earth he knew her name. She glanced at her empty cup and, sure enough, _Pepper_ was scrawled in impatient black ink across the side.

Shaking her head, Pepper threw the carrier away – she hadn’t sunk low enough yet to drink the sugary mess Anna called coffee – and stepped back into the fray of moving bodies. Her head was full enough to occupy her on the way home, and she didn’t want to waste money on the bus, anyway.

It was the first time Pepper Potts met Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were just people, a fact of which she was well aware.
> 
> But then, Tony Stark was a close to a celebrity as she’d ever meet, and okay: she was a little bit starstruck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos/commented on the last chapter. Just a quick heads up: this follows movie-verse and, in the Iron Man movies, Pepper and Tony don't really become a couple until the second movie. This is set pre-movie, which means they won't really "get together," but I definitely see them as having an almost-but-not-quite-because-it's-not-professional relationship, hence tagging it as a relationship. Just so no one is disappointed!

“Well, Ms. Potts, you’re certainly qualified. I’ll be sure to pass your résumé along to Mr. Stark.”

Obadiah Stane turned his oily smile on Pepper, who tried not to flinch. There was something subtly odious about the man – like a beloved grandfather prone to random tirades of racism. Still, he was the head (ex-head) of Stark Industries and, more importantly, the man who could decide whether or not to patch her application through to Mr. Stark.

Yes, _the_ Tony Stark. Pepper had been as surprised as anyone when the news had flashed across the her TV screen that night. She’d dropped her toothbrush, almost choking on the minty foam in her mouth, before rushing to compile a résumé. After all, if her mystery informant had known that Tony Stark was returning to the company, perhaps he was right about the PA job as well.

And he had been – she’d applied and now, only 2 days later, she was being interviewed in the swankiest office she’d ever seen. Everything was high-end, high-tech, and high class. Sharp white edges with veins of electric blue light – Stark Industries was everything the papers said and more. Pepper couldn’t help but feel out of place; she was in her finest, a high-waisted black skirt and a wine-colored blouse. She felt certain every employee could smell the cheap scent of clearance prices that hung about the outfit – she had yet to see a single woman here in shoes without a red sole.

 _At least,_ thought Pepper dryly, _I got an interview before I got evicted and couldn’t shower_.

“I think that will be all for now, Ms. Potts,” said Obadiah, and Pepper realized his last comment had been a dismissal. Blushing slightly, she grabbed her purse and stood, extending her still-quavering hand. She was a tad disappointed she hadn’t gotten to meet Mr. Stark, but overall, she wasn’t surprised. Even if she got the job, Pepper didn’t think she’d see much of the billionaire, PA or not.

“Thank you again for your time – ”

“Obi! What’d I miss?”

The doors banged open and _the_ Tony Stark blew in like a cool breeze.

Now, Pepper Potts was a levelheaded woman. She didn’t pour over trashy tabloids like they were Gospel, and she didn’t stalk celebrities across the web. They were just people, a fact of which she was well aware.

But then, Tony Stark was a close to a celebrity as she’d ever meet, and okay: she was a little bit starstruck.

He wasn’t as young as he appeared on her crappy TV screen – not old, not by any stretch of the imagination, but up close she could see little wrinkles worming their way around his eyes and nestling in the corners of his mouth. He was shorter in person too, but his height hardly mattered when his personality was larger than life. His hair was soft, ungelled and unstyled, as though he’d simply rolled out of bed, into his two thousand dollar suit, and over to Stark Industries.

To complete his cocky schoolboy persona, that trademark for which he was so well known, Stark was chewing an apple as loudly and obnoxiously as possible.

“Tony!” shouted Obadiah in a booming, genial voice. “I didn’t think you were coming in today.”

Stark shrugged easily, hopping onto the edge of Obadiah’s desk and sitting cross-legged. “I thought picking out my personal assistant should be, you know, personal. So I came to conduct some interviews.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.

Pepper glanced uncertainly between the two men. There was the tiniest crackle of tension filtering through the air, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the passing of the reins from Stane to Stark had been as smooth as the papers claimed.

“Well, that’s a good idea. But I was just finishing the last interview now. I trust your judgment, Tony,” added Obadiah hastily, noticing, as Pepper had, the coolly raised eyebrow and pouty lips forming on Stark’s face, “I just know how you get with pretty women. And the majority of the applicants _were_ pretty women.” Obadiah waved an airy hand at Pepper in example. She supposed he meant it as a compliment, calling her pretty, but she wasn’t sure she liked the insinuation. As though she only applied so she could ogle Tony Stark all day!

“Right. Well, speaking of pretty applicants, while you’re here…” Stark reached across the desk and quickly snagged her application from Stane’s hand. “Virginia Potts. Cute, very…rustic…So, Ms. Potts – it is Ms., yeah? Good. Okay. So, Ms. Potts, are you an aspiring young inventor?”

“Uh, no – ”

“Do you know the atomic weight of iridium off the top of your head?”

“Um – ”

“Have you ever programmed an artificial intelligence system?”

“Isn’t that your job?” asked Pepper, feeling a bit annoyed. She hadn’t applied for any kind of engineering position, for heaven’s sake! “I don’t know much about the cutting edge technology at Stark Industries, but I know how to find information on it. I don’t know how to program – robots, or whatever – but I know how to organize _your_ life. And I’m not an aspiring young inventor because I’m an experienced veteran of the business world already.”

Obadiah looked shocked, which Pepper understood; she’d been feeding him the same old “reliable, hard-working, dedicated to the cause!” bit that most employers wanted to hear. Stark, on the other hand, grinned at her. “Think fast,” he replied, tossing the apple at her. Pepper, slightly disgusted (she wasn’t a germaphobe, per se, but she _hated_ spit) lashed out instinctively, backhanding the apple by some divine intervention straight into the trash can. Tony whistled through his teeth.

“I like you. You’re…snappy.”

“Snappy?” asked Pepper. It sounded like a compliment, but an odd one at best.

“Snappy!” gasped Tony, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “No, not snappy…Spicy! You’re Pepper, aren’t you?”

Pepper blinked. She’d gone by Pepper since she was a child, but the nickname wasn’t anywhere on her résumé.

“From the bus stop, remember? You had excellent taste in coffee. Well, not so much whatever was in the other cup. I was pretty hungover, but I remember the name. Photographic memory, and all. I guess my overwhelming charm convinced you to apply?”

“That was you?” Pepper blurted, eyes growing wide. Oh, for the love of all that was good, she’d told _Tony Stark_ , of all people, that she was broke and nearly homeless? Certainly he wouldn’t hire her now – not knowing what a failure she was.

“Yep! Congratulations, you were the first to witness the heroic return of the prodigal son. Or at least I think that’s what they’re calling it. Well!” Stark leapt down from the desk, clapping his hands together with relish. “I guess we’re done here. I need to get back to the lab, I left something of a… _delicate_ nature waiting. Does eight tomorrow work for you? Pepper?”

“Oh!” Pepper hadn’t realized he was talking to her. _Keep it smooth, Potts_. “Does…wait, what?” _So smooth_.

“Eight? Tomorrow? Morning? I mean, _I_ won’t be up, unless the zombie apocalypse starts or something. But I have a mess of emails you can start sorting through and of course, I know the PR people want to get to some events, throw my face out there a little. Like I haven’t been in the magazines enough. Anyway. Eight?”

“So does this mean I’m…hired?”

Stark nodded. “Yep! Grab a badge from Happy on your way out, it’ll be your keycard for the building. My office is on the top floor, which means your office is on the top floor. We can figure out salary later. And here.”

Stark fished something out of his pocket and, once again, tossed it to her. This time, Pepper managed to catch it. It was a sleek, black rectangle. She would’ve thought it was a phone, but they couldn’t really be this thin, could they?

“I saw that old transistor radio ‘phone’ you were lugging around the other day. Consider this a gift from the company. My number is already programmed into it – house, office, cell – and so is Obi’s. And there’s a direct line to JARVIS too, if needed.”

Stark grabbed her free hand, still hanging weightless at her side, and pumped her arm up and down in a quick handshake. “Welcome to Stark Industries, Ms. Potts.” And then he was gone.

“So…that’s it? Just like that? Can he do that?”

Obadiah sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Tony can do whatever he likes. He’s never been big on convention. So, I guess, yes. You’re hired.” He stood then, gesturing with a sweep of his broad arm to the door. Not wanting to push her luck, Pepper scurried out with another quick “thank you” and retrieved her badge from the man at the desk who was, in fact, named Happy.

On the cab ride home, Pepper turned her new phone over and over in her hands, fingers sliding wonderingly across the blank surface. A clean slate. A fresh start. Of all the questions still nagging her about her unexpected luck, one pounded the most insistently through her head.

“Who on earth is Jarvis?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d signed up for with this job, but it certainly wasn’t this!
> 
> Still, it was only her first day and there were still plenty of details to hash out. She’d just broach the subject with Mr. Stark – Tony – later, when he wasn’t trying to sneak away from a one night stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million apologies to my readers for the long hiatus! I had absolutely no time to write at all in February and have just now gotten down to a manageable workload/stress level. I hope you guys didn't all abandon this story! I will hopefully be getting back to a semi-regular update schedule again after this. Reviews are always appreciated!

The First Day

Pepper wasn’t sure what time Mr. Stark was planning on coming in, but she certainly wasn’t expecting the call from him that came only minutes after entering the office. She was early – she’d had to walk, no longer having enough money to spend on public transportation. Thankfully, she didn’t live far from Stark Industries’ LA office, unlike Mr. Stark who, it appeared, was determined to commute every day from his house in Malibu. Pepper supposed having a nice car and driver made the trip a bit more bearable.

Still, she’d arrived at 7:50 on the dot, not expecting to hear from Stark until 9 or later; after all, the man was notorious for his easygoing habits. She’d just set her purse underneath her new desk (which was bigger than the bed in her apartment and had three separate computer screens on it) when the phone on her desk hummed to life impatiently.

“Stark Industries, Ms. Potts speaking, how may I assist you?” There, she thought proudly, just the perfect blend of servile and professional. Not bad, seeing as she’d had absolutely no training for this job whatsoever. In fact, she hadn’t even really gotten a job description. Or any kind of salary range. Or even a schedule…

“Pepper? You still there?” The voice on the end of the line jarred Pepper out of her increasingly frantic thoughts. It was familiar to her already, and yet…

“Mr. Stark? Why – why are you whispering?”

“Tony, please, Pepper – Mr. Stark makes me sound so…mature. It’s bad for my image. And the last thing I need is for my employees to associate me with my genetic donor.”

“Gen – you mean your father?” Pepper hugged the phone between her ear and shoulder, trying to log on to one of the servers in front of her, in case Tony wanted to schedule an appointment or make a memo or something. The screen flashed at her, the annoying, blocky text whining that she’d entered her password wrong twice and would be locked out if she continued.

“Yeah, father, if you want to go with the technical relationship. And speaking of – I need you to come see me right away.”

“Are you in your office already?” asked Pepper, her eyes growing wide. She knew she shouldn’t have adjusted her underwear in front of those plate-glass doors – itchy new thong be damned, she should have known she’d be spotted by someone. And now Tony had probably seen and would throw her out for being a disgrace to the company and she hadn’t even finished her coffee yet…

“No! God, no, I’m still at my house. Along with, uh, a houseguest. And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble – well, no offense, but even if it is – I need you to run down here and deal with her. JARVIS refuses to help me out. They say chivalry is dead, but I guess they weren’t counting the conservative ideology of advanced artificial intelligence programs – anyway! Happy is outside, the car is already running, and if you leave now you’ll probably make it here before she gets up. I don’t want her wandering around and touching my stuff. I hate when people touch my stuff. In fact, JARVIS will inform you when you arrive exactly which stuff your position allows you to touch. You’re a lifesaver, Pep! See you in the office at noonish? We’ll do lunch. Ciao!”

The phone went silent instantly. Pepper felt breathless, her heart thrumming with the half-panicked adrenaline of tipping too far back in a chair or ascending the first hill of a roller coaster. Mr. Stark – or Tony, or whoever – was a force to be reckoned with; at 8 in the morning, he was already buzzing with the frenetic energy that contributed largely to his charm.

Pepper was not in the mood to find her new boss charming. In fact, she had half a mind to confront him later about his dismissive treatment of women and demeaning expectations for her job. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d signed up for with this job, but it certainly wasn’t this!

Still, it was only her first day and there were still plenty of details to hash out. She’d just broach the subject with Mr. Stark – Tony – later, when he wasn’t trying to sneak away from a one night stand.

Besides, her computer screen chose that moment to blink out, informing her that she’d spent too long typing her password, thus making her a threat to security, and that she needed to contact a supervisor. Grabbing her coffee – she had a feeling she’d need the caffeine-induced energy boost – Pepper headed back to the lobby.

* * *

 

The drive with Happy was long, but not unpleasant. Happy seemed genuinely kind and talkative, easily moving the conversation along while Pepper slowly revived through her coffee. The man had worked for Tony for a long time, he said, and he clearly hadn’t lost his mind over it yet. Pepper had tentatively asked if “Mr. Tony” (her own private compromise on the name issue) was always so chaotic, and Happy had laughed gleefully, like a young boy impressed by the antics of his older brother. Tony, Happy explained, was a breed unto himself.

“Smartest man I’ve ever met, but that’s just the problem, you see? His brain just works so fast that the people around him can’t always keep up. Especially here in California – the most mellow people in the world live right here in California. I remember when we first moved here – he’s had the house for awhile, but then, Tony’s got houses everywhere, never really stayed in one place for long – and we were waiting for his driver at the airport (he had a different driver then, I was strictly security and witty repartee at the time) and when the guy finally shows up, he asks why we were in such a hurry! An hour late, and he thought we were too worried about ‘punctuality’ and ‘running the rat race’ and all that. Tony really liked him, fit right in with his attitude, but then we found out he ran a pot business on the side, and the kid was high as a kite half the time he was driving, and I just couldn’t in good conscience let him keep driving Tony around. I’ve got nothing against his lifestyle, but you can’t be driving around one of the world’s greatest minds when you’re stoned. Who knows what could’ve happened? Ah, looks like we’re here.”

Happy pulled the car around the circular driveway of a beautiful cliff-side mansion. Pepper thought such houses only existed in Hollywood sets – but then, with the kind of money Tony Stark had, nothing was too extravagant or too expensive an indulgence.

Happy rolled the window down as she got out. “I’ll just wait for you here – I hate to see a pretty lady cry.” He twisted the radio knob and a Katy Perry song blasted through the speakers before Pepper had a chance to ask who Happy thought would be crying. Straightening her brand-new blazer (paid for by money she’d borrowed from her cranky old neighbor, Madame Millet, who’d had an inexplicable soft spot for Anna), Pepper pushed open the doors to the house, belatedly surprised to find them unlocked.

“Hello, Ms. Potts. I would like to state for the record that I for one do not condone Mr. Stark’s actions, and that I find you to be an admiral young lady.”

The voice echoing from the ceiling was male, smooth and cultured with a slightly metallic tint. Pepper spun in a slow circle, her inner interior designer (a major she’d pursued for nearly three years in college) swooning with delight over the tasteful aesthetic of the house. There was no one else in the room.

“My apologies, miss. My name is JARVIS, and I am Mr. Stark’s personal AI system, in charge of running Mr. Stark’s household. I’m afraid he often oversteps the limits he himself programmed into me – I do hope you haven’t been overly inconvenience with your trip here, Ms. Potts.”

The voice, now that Pepper had recovered from her shock, was obviously issuing from the speakers discreetly placed around the room. The cultured undertone she’d noticed earlier solidified into a distinctly British accent, and Pepper hid a smile. Who knew Tony would buy into the cliché of having a British butler? Albeit a nontraditional one.

“So…you’re a robot?” Pepper admitted to herself that maybe, if she was going to work at one of the leading names in technology, she should’ve first gleaned some basic background information on…well, technology. She’d never even owned a dishwasher before, for heaven’s sake!

“If that’s what you prefer to call me, then I won’t be offended. Heaven knows I’ve heard worse from Mr. Stark. Now, if you’d be so kind as to make your way upstairs, it appears Mr. Stark’s guest has awoken.”

“You can see her, too?” blurted Pepper, wondering exactly where JARVIS’ eyes were. Or if he had eyes. Or if a fancy robot-house-butler could even technically be called _he_.

“Yes, Ms. Potts,” and this time the voice was laced with the slightest patient amusement, “My programming exists throughout this house, as well as in several other mobile devices of Mr. Stark, including but not limited to his cellular phone and laptop computer.”

“Oh,” said Pepper weakly, before starting towards the staircase on the far side of the room. “JARVIS, isn’t it kind of inappropriate for me to go into my boss’s bedroom and throw out his date from last night? Like, it’s not just me, that’s weird – right?” Why Pepper needed validation from a house, she wasn’t really sure, but she was starting to become very uncomfortable with the whole idea.

“Far be it from me to define normal, Ms. Potts. My experience with humanity has been quite frankly limited to Mr. Stark and a few of his companions.”

“How did you know I was an ‘admiral young lady,’ though? Did Mr. To – uh, Mr. Stark talk about me?”

The possibility shouldn’t make her cheeks feel warm, but her traitorous face was undeniably aflame when she passed a mirror on the wall of the stairwell.

“I conducted my own background research on you, Ms. Potts, if you’ll forgive my frankness. I think it shows great strength of character to put yourself through college, especially after your parents – ”

“Yes, thank you, JARVIS,” interrupted Pepper quickly. The last thing she needed was a reminder of that now.

“My apologies, Ms. Potts. Ms. Peters is in the bedroom to the left at the end of the hall – the guest bedroom, for the record, not Mr. Stark’s personal chambers. Her clothes have been dry cleaned and are waiting on a table outside, along with the standard NDA forms. Please see that she signs the papers and gathers her personal belongings before she leaves. A town car has been ordered to take her to her home or place of employment and is waiting outside. That is all.”

“Wait!” cried Pepper, suddenly panicked. She, unlike Anna, had never been into clubs or parties or one-night stands, and she had no experience dealing with these types of situations. “What do I say?”

JARVIS was silent for a moment, and Pepper fervently hoped he was Googling  “Classy ways to throw your boss’s lover out of bed” because she hadn’t the slightest idea how to approach the task.

“I shall leave it entirely to your discretion, Ms. Potts.”

Well, dang.

* * *

 

Ms. Peters was young, attractive, and, as it turned out, not a morning person at all. Pepper could feel her face burning as the (completely nude) woman jumped out of the (ridiculously large and plush) bed and started ranting at her, telling Pepper exactly where Mr. Stark could put his NDA. Pepper had to admit that she was very spirited and incredibly creative, especially when it came to her suggestions for how she hoped Tony’s next fling would behave. The worst, though, wasn’t the screaming, or the insults, or even the stiletto that nearly cost Pepper an eye.

No, the worst was the following calm, when _Lynette Peters_ was scrawled across the bottom of the contract (swearing her to secrecy about the evening, it seemed, if the screaming had been anything to go by) and her perfect cream business dress was smoothed down – looking a million times more professional than Pepper could ever hope to be. Then, she shot Pepper the most sickly sweet smile she’d ever received.

“Only eight hours after me, and he’s already got a new plaything? My, my, I wonder how quickly he’ll get bored with you? Oh well, at least the money’s good, right? And you even get a title that distinguishes you from his other prostitutes.” Lynette smirked, grabbed a handbag that cost more than Pepper’s yearly rent, and swished out of the room.

Hands shaking, Pepper sank onto the floor of the room – she was definitely _not_ sitting on the bed after a few of the more colorful details Lynette had let slip about the night.

Four hours into her new job and Pepper was pretty sure she’d already developed an ulcer. Oh, she and Mr. Tony were going to have words at lunch, all right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper's first day, and a surprising new player

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Just a quick note - I'll be out of the country for the next two weekends and probably won't get a chance to update for awhile - sorry! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/left kudos on the last chapter - that always makes my day! Hope you enjoy!

Except Tony didn’t show up for lunch. In fact, he didn’t make an appearance in the office at all. Pepper sat diligently at her desk (Obadiah having walked her through the surprisingly complicated login process) all morning, sorting through emails by order of importance, fielding phone calls, scheduling appointments, and overall treading the waters with unexpected grace. Even Obadiah commented on her performance when he stopped to check for Tony the umpteenth time that day.

“We sure lucked out with you, Ms. Potts,” he said with his trademark disquieting smile. “It’s like you were born for this job.”

Pepper wanted to argue that no, she was born (and raised and educated in a high-profile business school, thank you very much) to be a CEO, to run a _business_ , not a business _man_.  But instead she smiled, glanced discreetly at the clock, and wished him a pleasant lunch break.

By five o’clock, it was time for her to gather her belongings and go home. No one besides Obadiah had talked to her all day, excluding the early morning call from Tony, and Pepper still had no set hours or salary. If the rest of the office was emptying out at five, however, she certainly wasn’t sticking around.

Pepper hit the lobby, feet already aching in her heels – she hadn’t been unemployed long, but man, she was out of practice. She was surprised to see Happy loitering by the front desk, yesterday’s paper in his bulb-jointed hands, dressed as casually as before in cargo shorts and a polo shirt. She was even more surprised when he stood and waved her over.

“How’d the first day go?” he asked eagerly, and Pepper felt a sudden swell of emotion towards the man. It suddenly occurred to her how unwelcoming an environment she’d experienced today.

“It was surprisingly okay.”

“Listen, Tony wanted me to apologize for him bailing on lunch today. Rhodey sent him new specs for some military gadget and Tony’s been holed up in his lab all day, working out the kinks. He wants to reschedule for tomorrow and he sent you – ” Happy turned around, fumbling in the bag underneath his chair before reemerging triumphantly “– this!”

It was a bouquet of flowers, a mixture of foreign colors and shapes that far outstripped roses with their exotic beauty. And their extravagance.

“Happy, no, I can’t except these! That’s so – unprofessional, for one, and odd, frankly, and – ”

Happy cut her off with a genial laugh. “Between you and me, Ms. Potts, I don’t think Tony knows how to apologize in any other way. He was all for buying jewelry, but JARVIS talked him off the ledge on that one.”

Pepper grudgingly held out her hands for the arrangement. They really were lovely, and they’d brighten up her apartment considerably – the place had been looking awfully drab since Anna left, taking her framed photos and paint-splattered canvases with her.

“Tony also wanted you to look over this,” and now he was producing a manila envelope from thin air and handing it over, “they’re the details of your employment. He said to go through, mark it up with suggestions, comments, complaints, questions, and philosophical remarks to be discussed and negotiated tomorrow.”

Pepper juggled the flowers around in her arms long enough to accept the envelope and drop it into her purse (and really, when she got her first paycheck, she should look into getting a briefcase or something more professional than the knockoff Coach she’d gotten on a street corner in New York). “Thanks, Happy,” she told the man, real gratitude warming her voice. Happy blushed slightly, the bashful expression giving him the look of an overgrown schoolboy.

“Nah, don’t thank me, Ms. Potts, just doin’ my job. Speaking of, I’m also here to offer you a ride home if you didn’t drive your own car here.”

“I don’t have a car, actually, but I’m fine with taking the bus,” Pepper remarked casually, noting with alarm the abrupt change in Happy’s expression.

“No car? Well, maybe I can talk to Tony, get something sorted – a girl like you shouldn’t have to take the bus every day! There even a bus stop around here?”

“It’s a few blocks off, but really, Happy, I’m fine walking.” The last bit, at least, was a bald-faced lie. Her feet felt swollen inside her heels, which were actually hand-me-downs from Anna. _Curse her and her china doll feet_.

“Now, Ms. Potts, you don’t really want to make me shirk my duties, do you? That’d get me in trouble with the boss, and you wouldn’t want to do that to me after I brought you flowers and everything, right?”

Pepper grinned. “I thought they were from Tony?”

“Still, I coulda kept them for myself. I’ve got a vase they’d look right at home in back at the house.”

Pepper laughed. He was already here, after all, and she did like his company… “Fine, but just this once, okay? I don’t need to be chauffeured around like some fancy big-shot millionaire.”

“Billionaire, actually,” Happy corrected as they headed out of the building.

Pepper glanced behind her; the neon Stark Industries sign glowed like an ice-blue beacon in a chaotic swirl of gaudy reds, dull golds, and flaming pinks. It was a smooth block of high-tech genius, the epitome of a booming business, and Pepper could hardly believe she held an office on the top floor. A few days ago, she was sure her life was over, and now? She was – both metaphorically and literally – on top of the world.

* * *

 

Pepper still wasn’t quite used to returning home to an empty apartment. Sure, Anna used to go out all the time, and back in the heyday of her relationship with Chad, she’d slept in his bed more often than her own. Still, there was an undeniable chill of loneliness in the rooms, a lack of laughter and color that made the once-cozy home into a bleak, blank void.

Stupid, Pepper chided herself, dropping her keys into the bowl by the door. There was no need to go full melodrama on her situation. Such meltdowns were reserved for Anna.

Pepper hadn’t heard from her friend since she left, but she wasn’t too concerned. Anna was flighty and forgetful, and she’d probably already half-dialed Pepper’s number a dozen times before being distracted. She’d get around to it eventually.

It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, when Pepper saw the blinking red light on her decrepit mammoth of an answering machine (why the apartment had a landline, she’d never know – those things were practically extinct, like dinosaurs and Crocs). She pressed the playback button as she dropped onto her bed and began removing her shoes.

“ _Pep, hey! How are you? I’m surprised you’re not at home – well, not really. I’m sure there are a million reasons you’re out – ooh! I hope it’s a boy! Or a new job. Honestly, you could use both. Anyway, I was really hoping to talk to you, I’ve got_ so much _to tell you! The weather sucks, of course – I guess people really weren’t exaggerating the rain – and I miss that California sun. And I miss you, of course! Sorry I haven’t called before, Chad’s been riding my ass about wedding details – who’d have thought he’d be more exciting than_ me _about it? Speaking of – you absolutely have to fly in for the wedding. I won’t take no for an answer, I don’t know anyone here and I need my maid of honor! I swear I won’t even try to play Cupid, unless, I mean, you want me to hook you up with one of Chad’s coworkers. Oh my God, Pepper, British men are_ so _–_ ”

The message cut out with a droning bleep, and Pepper dabbed gently at her eyes. She’d missed Anna more than she’d realized – dirty clothes and appalling language aside, they’d been friends for a long time.

It broke Pepper’s heart, knowing that she’d have to miss her friend’s wedding. As it stood now, there was no way she’d be able to afford the plane ticket, let alone a hotel. She wondered how she’d tell Anna…and _when_ she’d tell her. What time was it in Britain now? Was it too late to call back?

Pepper was still debating when she noticed the answering machine was still blinking weakly. It was a real piece of work, older than Pepper and unable to play more than one message without the playback button being pressed each time. She pushed the button.

“ _Hello, Ms. Potts,” crooned a cool female voice from the tinny speaker. “I understand you’ve just been hired as an assistant at Stark Industries. I also happen to have an idea of your current financial situation as, incidentally, I own the building in which you currently reside. It’d be a shame to be evicted now, wouldn’t it? When you’re so close to being able to pay off your debts…Well, I think I can help you with that. In fact, I think you could find me to be a very generous friend –  now that Ms. Belstrade has moved out, I’m sure you could use a friend, couldn’t you? I’ll be at the Sunflower Café tomorrow at noon – it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you took the time to meet with me, Virginia. And do keep it a secret from Mr. Stark – we have quite the sordid history. I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Potts_.”

The machine beeped again, but Pepper was suddenly too numb to notice. She had a sinking feeling in her gut about this meeting; it sounded like refusal wasn’t much of an option.

Pepper groaned and threw herself back on her mattress. She’d gone from the depths of despair to the top of the world, and after a few short hours, it seemed she was plummeting downward again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I already got us a table, don’t you worry,” the woman said, her tone rambly and playful. To any outsider, it would look like two close friends sitting down to a friendly lunch. Which was, of course, the woman’s intention, Pepper realized. She’d been silly to think she’d be approached by a shadowy figure in a trench coat.  
> The woman all but dragged Pepper back to the table, the farthest one from the door and kitchen, she noted. She casually slipped her hand into the pocket of her pants, gripping her shiny new phone in her hand. Hopefully she’d be able to figure out how to dial 911 with it before her lunch date had any chance to harm her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm so, so sorry for the lag in updates! I have a million excuses: prom, AP week, final exams, graduation, a new job...the list goes on and on. However, if you all haven't completely abandoned this story as hopeless, I promise to update more regularly! Again, so sorry, and thanks to everyone who didn't give up hope on me! You're the best!

Pepper fidgeted in her seat and discreetly checked the time on the computer screen for what felt like the billionth time.  The numbers hadn’t changed: 11:24. She had a little over half an hour before meeting with her mysterious caller – and even less time to weasel her way out of lunch with Tony.

Pepper had been surprised as anyone when Tony had appeared at his desk that morning at 8 o’clock sharp, dressed in a neatly pressed suit jacket over a t-shirt screen-printed with a tuxedo. His hair was carefully styled and he was clean-shaven; questionable wardrobe aside, he was the picture of professionalism.

He’d had a board meeting at nine, and Pepper had supplied him with coffee and gone over a few of his more pressing emails before he’d been whisked away by Obadiah; he hadn’t yet emerged.

Pepper glanced at the time again, which had edged its way to 11:25.  She sighed, lifted her hand to her mouth before resolutely setting it back on the desk.  She’d spent years breaking herself of her awful nail-biting habit, and she wasn’t about to let a stranger she hadn’t even _met_ intimidate her into mutilating her hands again.  Even if she’d already scared Pepper into an illicit meeting about her boss without said boss’s knowledge or consent.

 _Focus, Potts_.

Pepper sorted through the new batch of emails that had flowed in since last night: invitations to charity galas, notifications of high-end art auctions, questions from the engineering team, requests from the marketers.  Pepper hadn’t realized that Tony truly had his finger in every metaphorical pie at Stark Industries; she’d honestly believed that he’d planned on being more of a figurehead, a mascot, that Obadiah would continue to run the company much as he had for the past few years. She was pleasantly surprised at being wrong, almost feeling proprietary pride in the instant involvement of her boss with his people.

“Pepper!” Tony called, saving her from a particularly dry email regarding the testing of some new hydraulic something-or-other. Tony swaggered up to her desk – there was no other way to describe his walk – and plopped dramatically in the chair in front of it, kicking his feet up onto her desk.  Pepper almost complained but, then again, it _was_ his desk. Technically.

“How’s your day been treating you? Do you like the coffee in the break room? Is your work environment ergonomic enough for you? Weren’t you wearing that same shirt the other day?”

Pepper flushed immediately, only managing to catch the last comment in his hurried interrogation.  She was indeed wearing the same dark blouse she’d interviewed in, this time with a pair of cream colored pants.  She couldn’t help it – she didn’t really have the money for new business clothes, and her other job had been leagues behind Stark Industries in every respect, dress code included.

“It’s a great color on you!” Tony hurriedly assured her. “Smashing. Fantastic. Very…flattering. Makes your eyes look all…bright…anyway! Let’s talk lunch.”

Pepper smiled wryly, glad at the tactful change in topics. That is, until she realized what the topic had changed to.

 _Showtime_.

“Actually, Mr. – Tony. I was wondering if we could do lunch tomorrow instead? I have a Skype appointment with my old roommate, Anna, to negotiate the last of the rent and change the lease and all, and it’s the only time we were both free.”

It was a complete lie, but Pepper Potts was a pro at telling people what they wanted to hear. She wasn’t proud of it, but her impregnable poker face had gotten her through some tough times.

Tony considered her for a moment, and Pepper tried to quash the sudden, panicked feeling that he was looking right through her to her brain, watching as the little Peppers in her mind struggled to find any implausibilites that would give away her lie. She’d even been sure to double check a world clock, to make sure it wasn’t 4 am or something in London.

“Yeah, no problem,” Tony finally said with an insouciant shrug. “Just trying to get to know you a little better – for a personal assistant, I haven’t actually had the pleasure of any one-on-one time yet.” Was it Pepper’s imagination, or did he sound truly disappointed? She gave him a reassuring smile.

“We’ll definitely have plenty of time for that after lunch – your next meeting isn’t until five, and I was actually needing to go over some events with you…”

At 11:50, Pepper was released from the building, and she all but sprinted down the block to the Sunflower Café,  sidestepping Happy’s earnest insistence on driving her to her apartment. She made it through the door with three minutes to spare.

The restaurant was one of Pepper’s favorites – she had often frequented it with Anna, who was particularly fond of all the vegetarian-friendly options the menu had.  The interior was painted a friendly yellow with green accents, and the flower for which it was named was spilling from every corner, blooming in centerpieces on each table and crowding the flower boxes on the windowsills. It was a happy, peaceful place, and it was the last place Pepper had expected any sort of underhanded deal to take place. It’s always the quiet ones, she mused to herself.

The only other patron was a dark haired, fair-skinned (almost shockingly pale for California) woman in the back corner, dressed in a green sundress and reading a book. _1984_ , Pepper noted.

The woman looked up when Pepper entered, smiling warmly, but otherwise gave no indication that she was the mystery caller Pepper was supposed to meet. Besides, she looked far too gentle to shake Pepper down for dirt on Tony Stark or evict innocent PAs from their homes.

Just as Pepper was deciding to order her lunch and pick an empty table, the woman stuck a straw wrapper between the pages of her novel and set it aside (and Pepper really shouldn’t be missing Anna with that simple gesture – her scatterbrained roommate used _everything_ to keep her place in books, but surely she couldn’t be the only one who consistently lost bookmarks?).

“Pepper, hi!” the woman gushed, rushing over to embrace her with surprisingly strong arms. Up close, Pepper could see the subtly defined muscles lacing her entire body. Her eyes were steel blue and calculating; she was suddenly much more intimidating.

“I already got us a table, don’t you worry,” the woman said, her tone rambly and playful. To any outsider, it would look like two close friends sitting down to a friendly lunch. Which was, of course, the woman’s intention, Pepper realized. She’d been silly to think she’d be approached by a shadowy figure in a trench coat.

The woman all but dragged Pepper back to the table, the farthest one from the door and kitchen, she noted. She casually slipped her hand into the pocket of her pants, gripping her shiny new phone in her hand. Hopefully she’d be able to figure out how to dial 911 with it before her lunch date had any chance to harm her.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Virginia,” the woman said in a low voice, as though she could read her thoughts. She slid the book across the table to Pepper, who (after some serious eyebrow prompting from the woman) opened it to the bookmarked page. She found the book to be hollowed out, the nook in the pages containing a badge that identified the woman as Maria Hill, agent for the Strategic Homeland –

Before Pepper could struggled to the end of the irrationally long name, the woman – Maria – forced the book closed and pulled it back. She was still smiling brightly, but her eyes were sweeping the café suspiciously. “Now that formalities are out of the way – I’m sure you’ve already guessed why you’re here.”

“Um…”

Actually, Pepper hadn’t been anywhere close to this scenario. She’d pictured crazy ex-lovers, enthusiastic stalkers, eager reporters, bloodthirsty competitors, but never once had her brain stumbled on something as mundane as a government worker. Not even one from the cool, over-glamorized agencies like the CIA or FBI, but some wordy unknown office.

“Virginia,” Maria said quietly, “I’m here to talk about Tony Stark.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Pepper mumbled, a kneejerk reaction.  The name made something deep inside her chest sting, like a papercut that’s forgotten until you brush against salt or lemon juice or something equally unexpected and painful.

Maria gave her a shrewd look – so far, ‘shrewd’ seemed to be her only setting – before nodding once.

“Ms. Potts, I’m here to talk about Mr. Stark’s involvement in developing illegal nuclear warheads without fully informed consent from the United States government.”

Whoa, what? Just… _what_?

“What?” blurted Pepper, slightly louder than their conversation had been previously. Both Pepper and Maria cut glances towards the kitchen, but the boy at the counter was focusing intensely on his phone. Kids these days…

“Maria – Ms. Hill – surely if that’s true, and there’s _no way_ that it is, you have some sort of official inquiry you could do?”

Maria ran her fingers through her dark hair, looking frustrated. “That’s what I told Nick – but he wants to keep it quiet. Ms. Potts, all our ‘evidence’ at this point is strictly hearsay, and frankly, Tony Stark is a hugely important asset to the defense of our country. The last thing we want is public damnation or a civil outcry – we don’t want to drag his name in the mud, especially if we’re wrong. And before you rush to his defense – ” Maria interjected quickly, noticing Pepper swelling with the trademark Potts Righteous Anger for Justice, “ – we don’t think Tony’s behind this. He’s only been back for a week, and our suspicion has been festering for awhile. It’s a big company, Ms. Potts, with access to all kinds of dangerous technology. Technology that will go for a very high price on the right market, or the wrong one, depending on your view of things.”

“So why am I here?” asked Pepper. “It’s only my second day.” Certainly, Pepper felt she’d been very thorough in her researching of her new company (with included a few glasses of wine and hours of Google searches late last night), but she _definitely_ hadn’t gone deep enough to uncover any company-wide government conspiracies or anything. She’d need a glass of something stronger to look into that.

Maria smiled, sliding something else across the table – a drab gray business card – as she swiftly whispered, “If you every hear anything that could be of use, give me a call. We’re not asking you to spy, we don’t want you to betray anyone’s trust. We’re only interested in protecting this country.”

“But Tony – ” Pepper tried to protest.

“Mr. Stark is a valuable asset who will only be helped by this, Pepper. Imagine the scandal attached to his name if something like this had even a _grain_ of truth. Imagine the repercussions for _you_. We’re looking out for everyone’s best interests here.” Maria was gone before Pepper could even organize her protests: spying was spying no matter how good the intent; she didn’t think she was morally or emotionally cut out for long-term deceit; Tony was a person, a human being, not just an asset; and Maria had wasted almost all of Pepper’s lunch hour without Pepper ever seeing a crumb of food.

Looked like it would eating a wrap on the walk back then.

But before Pepper left with her grilled chicken wrap warm in her hand, she circled back to the table and slipped Maria’s card into her purse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's the next chapter, faster than I'm sure any of us were expecting. I will be gone for the next week - college orientation in the great state of South Carolina - but I will hopefully be able to update when I get back. I absolutely adore each and every review/kudos you guys have left so far - you're the best! Enjoy!

Life, for the most part, passed peacefully at Stark Industries. Lunch with Tony was a standing date that somehow never came to fruition; last-minute meetings, disgruntled clients, and accidents in the lab occurred like clockwork, never allowing the billionaire to spend his lunch with his PA. Pepper never really saw Tony outside a business context: patching phone calls through to his office, dropping off important documents, and overall managing his life. From the minute Tony slid into his office 'til he went home in the evening, Pepper knew where he was, who he was with, and what he was doing. Or so she thought.

Her first month at SI slipped away in this manner, and Pepper was happy, for the most part. She was paying rent on time, she'd saved up enough to buy some nicer clothes for the office, and she was often too busy to think of Anna, burning through wedding plans an ocean away. Sometimes, though, when it was late at night and the apartment was silent, when Pepper walked past the empty wall in the kitchen where one of Anna's paintings once hung, when Pepper's personal email was crammed full of dress pictures from Anna, begging for her opinion – then, Pepper remembered how she missed her friend and how undeniably lonely her new life was.

Pepper was never one to mope, no sir. She was a Potts, and the Potts family made the best of every situation. A Potts didn't sit and gather moss, a Potts rolled out and took what he or she needed from the world, by hard work or charm or force, if needed. So Pepper did something she never thought she'd do.

She signed up for online dating. And, having no clue how anyone proceeded with such an endeavor, she called in help from an expert.

"Pepper, yes! Oh, you don't know how long I've waited for news like this! I mean, obviously you're super successful and independent and you don't really need to rely on anyone else, but I  _knew_  you were missing something! A boyfriend would be just perfect – of  _course_  I'll help you make your profile!"

Anna was ecstatic, and Pepper couldn't deny the warm twinge in her heart at her friend's enthusiasm. Of course, Anna was getting married, and that was huge – but at the same time, Anna had been so consumed by the wedding plans that she hadn't spared Pepper's life more than a passing inquiry in weeks. Pepper was surprised she'd even manage to relate the news of her position at SI to Anna, in between exclamations over cake and vicious diatribes against the florist.

Pepper's profile on CupidConnection, thanks to Anna's tactful and flattering descriptions, had a steady flow of potential suitors ("Ew, Pepper, don't call them that. That's so stuffy – it's 2007, for God's sake.")

One profile in particular caught Pepper's eye – Christopher Hughes, a freelance architect for the upper echelon of SoCal. He was a smidge older than Pepper – early thirties versus her late twenties – but he had a kind face, with laugh lines and bright eyes and soft, carefully styled black hair. He almost looked like Tony.

And that thought alone almost had Pepper backing out of their first date, but a Potts wouldn't abide by such cowardly actions, and she resolutely pushed the image of her boss out of her head. She and Christopher-call-me-Chris planned on meeting after they both got off work, at a little Italian place within walking distance of Stark Industries. Anna had gagged when Pepper told her, claiming that the date was cliché and unimaginative, but Pepper didn't care – she loved pasta. And anyways, she'd always been a bit more traditional when it came to dating.

She took extra care with her outfit that day, knowing she wouldn't have time to change after work. A soft green peplum sheath dress, paired with her sexiest pumps (which Anna had the gall to call 'schoolgirl training heels'), was topped off with a head of shiny curls and the barest dash of makeup. Pepper didn't usually go through so much trouble for dates, but it'd been awhile since she'd gone out with anyone and frankly, she was kind of lonely.

Tony noticed the moment he walked in the door (at his usual 10 o'clock), doing a double take as he walked past and backtracking to give her a more thorough once-over. The attention should have been uncomfortable, but that was just Tony's way – after a month, Pepper was used to his little slips in workplace decorum.

He let loose a whistle. "Looking sharp, Ms. Potts. Hot date tonight?" The words were obviously meant as a joke, but Pepper didn't feel offended – the balance of probability was on his side, after all.

"Actually, Mr. Stark, I do." Her lips curled, savoring the delicately raised eyebrow and slightly parted mouth before Tony schooled his expression into his usual smarmy charm.

"Oh? Do tell! Lady friend or man friend?"

Pepper rolled her eyes and Tony's hands jerked up defensively. "Fine, fine. Name, age, weight, Social Security Number, occupation, astrological sign, allergies, kinks?"

Pepper blinked, her ears buzzing with the vibrant energy of his query. Tony's fast-paced vernacular always left her a step behind, reeling and replaying his voice at one-third the speed. "Uh, Chris?" She offered weakly. Tony grimaced, dumping half his coffee down his throat and moving towards the door to his office. She waited for a wince that never came, and wondered just how old and tepid his coffee was. She'd offer to get more for him, but then, that wasn't really part of her job.

The usual Potts-Stark lunch was once again postponed, Tony buzzing her intercom to regale her with the newest incident in the lab that was keeping them apart. Pepper, abuzz with nervous energy for her date, expressed her admiration for Tony's hands-on dedication to the projects of the company. She regretted the comment instantly, as the intercom went silent. The slight hum of static informed her that Tony was still on the line. Just as Pepper mentally vowed to  _not_  let her excitement interfere with her verbal filter, Tony mumbled a gruff, "Thanks," and cut the connection. It was the most concise he'd ever been.

At five o'clock sharp, Pepper left the office and walked briskly towards the restaurant. Her heart thrummed quickly under her skin, and each brush of a stray curl against her face made her twitch. She was too nervous.  _Keep it together, Potts_ , she chided.

"Ms. Potts!" a voice shouted from behind her. The sharp crack of the unfamiliar tone had her turning instantly, only to be blinded by the burst of camera flash.

"Hey!" Pepper protested, blinking rapidly, but her mystery photographer was already running back into the night. Well, Pepper reflected, it wasn't the oddest thing to happen to her. Just last week, her usual cup of early-morning caffeine had been delivered to her desk via flying silver disk. A bit of misguided paparazzi attention wasn't horribly shocking.

The interior of the restaurant was dim and cozy, with the checkered tablecloths that seemed to come standard in every mom-and-pop Italian place. As usual, a vague sense of nostalgia and the smell of tomatoes permeated the air. Pepper let her eyes trail over the patrons gathered together over plates of noodles, until a man stood and came forward to greet her. The similarity sent an odd tingle down her spine, as the image of Chris briefly wavered and was replaced by a young woman with dark hair, walking towards her in a sunny café. Pepper shook off her unease and smiled at her date.

* * *

Chris was a perfect gentleman. He looked more than politely interested in all her ramblings about Stark Industries, offering up information about himself without trying to dominate conversation. The waiters all knew his name, stopping to ask about his overly rambunctious niece and nephew, smiling quizzically at Pepper and asking her how her musical career was going. At that comment, Chris hurriedly forced a laugh, shaking his head and gently correcting their waitress, who finished refilling Pepper's wineglass with a shrug.

Overall, Chris was nice, a bit older than his profile suggested ('early thirties' obviously a stretch for man pushing forty), interesting to talk to and compulsively polite. He reminded her more of a favorite uncle than a lover, and Pepper hoped she'd walk away from the date with a new friend, if not a paramour.

Despite all his obvious charms, a small part of Pepper was twinging with suspicion. For all his obvious affection towards his brother's children, Francis and Natalie, he seemed hesitant to offer any details about the two, beyond their penchant for trouble and constant bickering. And there was something about his hair that…well…seemed really _fake_.

Of course, Pepper knew how hair loss could be a sensitive subject, and she wasn't raised by  _wolves_ , so she didn't comment on it.

The dinner was just wrapping up, with both Chris and Pepper casting lusty eyes towards the dessert menu, when her phone began ringing obnoxiously. Pepper frowned, her mind flying back to the office, where she'd silenced the ringer as she left for the night. Murmuring apologies, she pulled it out of her purse, only to see JARVIS written in flashing red letters. Well, that was new.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. Potts," said JARVIS, in a tone that somehow managed to be polite and expressionless. She still wasn't used to the whole 'semi-sentient robot' thing. "I hate to interrupt what Mr. Stark mentioned to be a 'hot date,' but I must insist you drive to Mr. Stark's house immediately. It is of the utmost urgency."

"What? JARVIS, why, what's wrong?"

"Well, Ms. Potts, I must regrettably inform you that Mr. Stark is quite intoxicated. He's in his lab and has sustained a mild injury – "

"What?" interrupted Pepper. "That can't be. Tony has a meeting right now, he shouldn't be at home."

"Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark hasn't attended any of his business meetings since his return, excluding those he's been forcibly dragged to by Mr. Stane."

Pepper felt her heart sink. And here she thought she'd been doing such a good job, corralling the wild Tony Stark into the perfect businessman. This wasn't really the time for self pity, though, as JARVIS tactfully reminded her.

"Ms. Potts, please. He has overridden emergency protocol, rendering me incapable of contacting Misters Hogan, Rhoades, or Stane. He also will not allow me to call for any medical attention. You are my last viable option."

Pepper loosened her fingers slightly, noticing an ache caused by the death grip on her phone. "Oh my gosh! Should I call the paramedics?"

Chris raised his eyebrows, mouth pouting as he half-rose from his chair. Pepper waved him down with a strained smile.

"Rest assured, Ms. Potts, it appears to be a very minor injury. And frankly, Ms. Potts, I think Mr. Stark is in need of a friend rather than a doctor right now."

Pepper glanced back at Chris and the (honestly alarming-sized) cannoli being placed at the table and bit her lip. Surely this was above and beyond her call of duty. But Tony needed a friend, and truthfully? So did Pepper.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

The Stark house was quite literally rocking when Pepper got there – the windows were rattling with the pure sonic force that was AC/DC.

Chris had been disappointed but ultimately understanding when Pepper garbled a hurried excuse at him, and in her panic, he managed to finagle a second date for later in the week. She had nothing against Chris as a person – she just didn't want to give him any false hope.

JARVIS let her in, guided her to the stairs descending to the lab, and informed her that the code to open the doors was the same as her computer login. He added that he couldn't assist her further, as such actions would go against the new code a drunk and hurting Tony had programmed. He wished her luck, and for a disembodied voice issuing from a circuit board, he truly sounded concerned.

The lab was almost unbearably loud, the predictable  _swish_  of the automatic doors opening completely smothered by the pulsing music. The lab reeked of oil, and empty bottles stood like mournful sentinels on every surface. Pepper scanned the room, the ear-rupturing noise being her first priority. She followed the source of the sound and located a set of speakers far too advanced for her to figure out quickly; instead, she swiftly unplugged them.

"Hey!" came a muffled shout from somewhere in the lab. "JARVIS, tha's my jam! Turn it…Turnna music back on."

Pepper rushed towards the voice of her boss, just in time to see him roll out from under a table, blinking dazedly and cradling a bleeding hand to his chest.

"Tony!" Pepper cried, her motherly instincts flaring up instantly at the sight of blood (instincts Anna swore, having often been privy to the Potts' version of tough love, did not exist). She dropped to her knees beside him, ignoring the drunken swats he made with his uninjured hand.

"Pepper? 'm fine, leave me 'lone." He turned and tried to roll back under his table, but Pepper – for the first time in their professional relationship – broke with professionalism, grabbed him around the chest and hauled him out. _Screw workplace decorum_ , she thought viciously, heaving the wasted man into the nearest chair.

"Tony," Pepper began in her no-nonsense tone, the kind carefully cultivated to bring boardrooms to their collective knees, "let me see your hand."

Tony pouted but held out his hand, keeping his wrist purposefully limp so his hand flapped about dramatically. Pepper wondered if maybe JARVIS was right – maybe all Tony wanted right now was a friend. She softened her tone. "What happened?"

Tony shrugged half-heartedly, squirming in his seat. "Dunno. Drinking 'n' loud music 'n' power tools don't mix very well, I guess."

There was a cut on the inside of Tony's hand, following the Line of Sun on his palm (What? Anna had been into palmistry.)

It wasn't a deep cut at all, but in his stupor Tony had smeared blood in quite a few places; she could understand JARVIS's concern.

"Do you have a first aid kit in here, Tony?" asked Pepper, already scanning the walls. Surely, the lab of one of the greatest minds in the country was up to code on safety precaustions…

"S'over there." Tony looked close to falling asleep in his chair.

Pepper grabbed the (severely understocked) kit from a cabinet, crouching on the floor in front of Tony and softly taking his hand again. "This might sting," Pepper warned, though honestly Tony seemed so dead to the world that Pepper doubted he'd notice at all.

She cleaned the cut efficiently and silently, only speaking when she went to wrap his injury with the cloth bandage.

"Tony, why have you been skipping your meetings?"

Tony blinked back into a blurry consciousness, squinting to focus on Pepper. "This comp'ny…it's my dad's, y'know? An' they all think 'm a fuckup anyway…he never liked me. He wouldn't've wanted his comp'ny to go to me…so now 'm just hear for the publicity. It's the only thing I can do right…give 'em a show…"

The confession seemed to be Tony's swan song; his eyes fluttered shut again and he slumped deeper into the chair. Pepper pursed her lips.

Pepper had often heard it remarked that people looked younger, more innocent when they slept. This wasn't the case with Tony. With his trademark smirk smoothed out by exhaustion, his bubbly energy finally quieted, Tony seemed impossibly world-weary and broken for so young a man.

Pepper couldn't leave him like this – he'd hurt his back or choke on his own vomit or something. But she certainly wasn't strong enough to drag him up two flights of stairs to his room. She compromised by hauling as many blankets and pillows as she could to the lab, building Tony a little nest, before struggling to carry him to it. She wrapped him up, noticing the chill in the lab. As she stood to leave, her tired mind numbly glanced over all the projects sitting on tables, wires and tools cluttering counters, robotics and computer screens flashing in the harsh fluorescent light. All of it built by Tony's hands and mind. How could a man so supremely cool, so infinitely confident, and so clearly talented ever think he was a fuckup?

Pepper asked JARVIS to dim the lights in the lab and to monitor Mr. Stark's health, making the AI alert her immediately if anything appeared to go awry. After collecting the bottles (and having JARVIS make a memo to start recycling glass), she went to the nearest bathroom for Anna's swear-by hangover cure: two Advil and a glass of water. She left them on the table closest to Tony before returning to the ground level, curling up on the couch closest to the lab stairs, and promptly falling asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Pepper confronts Tony about his recent absenteeism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I accidentally forgot to update for a few months! I mean, I didn't really forget. I've been kind of busy, but mostly just lazy. I'm so sorry! I hate authors that take forever to update and now I am one of them...
> 
> Really, though, I'm so sorry that it's been so long, but if anyone is still reading this, I promise to update a bit more frequently. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed/left kudos so far! Y'all are the best!

Pepper jerked awake, barely registering the fact that she was _not_ in her bedroom at home before her sudden movement dropped her unceremoniously on the floor. Yep, decidedly not at home – even her crappy twin-sized bed wasn’t _that_ narrow.

Pepper rapidly took in her surroundings – spacious, open rooms filled with tastefully minimalistic furnishings – before remembering the night before.  Her date, Tony’s drinking, and the fact that she’d been _failing miserably at her job this whole time_. It was a wonder Mr. Stane hadn’t fired her yet.

The sound that had woken her, which Pepper now recognized as the opening chords of _Eye of the Tiger_ , cut off abruptly, followed by JARVIS’s smoothly neutral voice.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts. Please allow me to apologize for Mr. Stark’s boorish morning habits and overall lack of hospitality.”

“Well, no one _told_ me she was still asleep! Or so close to the lab! Or, you know, in my house in the first place!” Tony’s grumbling voice gradually grew louder, until the man himself appeared at the top of the stairs leading from the living room to the lab. For all his alcohol-sodden exploits the night before, Tony appeared none the worse for wear, as bright and energetic as he ever was this time in the morning.

  1.   Exactly what time was it?



“Oh, no,” Pepper groaned, perhaps a bit too dramatically for her own taste. It was nearly 11. “I’m late. _You’re_ late,” she added with a fierce glare towards her boss.

Tony shrugged, unconcerned, as he swaggered towards his kitchen. “JARVIS, be a dear and double my usual breakfast fare. Don’t you fret, Pep,” added Tony, hopping on the counter while various kitchen machines whirled to life, “I doubt your boss will mind. Mimosa?”

The drinks had appeared from who-knew-where, rising out of a hole in the counter on a tray, and Tony grabbed one with an ease that suggested this was a perfectly normal way of preparing a meal. Pepper had absently wondered about the lack of house staff before – now she knew that JARVIS truly was worth a whole legion of maids and cooks and butlers.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Pepper crossed the room and grabbed both glasses of the drink, swiftly dumping them down the sink. Her anger, last night buried under softer layers of sympathy, flared back to life in full force. “JARVIS, Mr. Stark doesn’t require any more alcohol for the time being.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts,” JARVIS responded evenly, and Pepper wondered if she detected a hint of relief in the words.

“Hey!” protested Tony weakly, looking distinctly surprised and wrong-footed. Pepper was almost as shocked as he at her actions. But the time for docile, timid Ms. Potts had clearly passed. It was time for Pepper, headstrong and brutally honest Pepper, to make a stand. Tony Stark was _not_ going to make a fool of her, skipping meetings and blowing off his job, no sir! Billionaire boss or not, Pepper was not going to let the revelation of his recent behavior slide.

“I can’t believe you! This whole time, for months, I’ve been making your schedule and organizing meetings and sorting your emails and thinking how great it was to work for someone that participated in every facet in his company, who really cared about the work his company and his people were doing – and this whole damn time, you’ve been shirking your duties to do God-knows-what with God-knows-who and getting drunk and hurting yourself and letting Stark Industries down!”

Let it never be said that Pepper Potts was afraid to deliver the honest truth. She’d been the one to tell Anna when their fifth consecutive goldfish had died, had been the one to fire several inept interns at her previous company before her own termination, had even been the one to deliver the news of her mother’s death to her father. There was a time and a place for harsh truths, and 11 a.m. in Tony Stark’s high-end kitchen seemed to be the perfect moment.

After her reprimand, there was silence in the kitchen. Tony, who’d still been staring at the sink as though willing his mimosa to reappear, blinked slowly at her before throwing his head back and laughing.

“I knew there was something I liked about you!” Tony crowed, clapping his hands together before fixing Pepper with his trademark smirk. “How about we leave running the company to me, though, yeah? I think I can handle – ”

“Cut the bullshit,” barked Pepper, causing Tony to snap his mouth shut in shock. Pepper couldn’t remember the last time she’d cursed so much – it’d probably been last year, when one of Anna’s more ambitious art pieces had landed her in the hospital for a week.

Pepper wasn’t even sure why she was so angry. Sure, Tony had lied to her, but the man, aside from being her boss, was practically a stranger. What he did with his company really was none of her responsibility – after all, she’d been doing her job dutifully, and no one had really expected her to change Tony’s wild, careless ways. Still, it felt like a betrayal – she’d been giving her all to this job, wanting Tony to succeed, glowing with pride at his apparent dedication to the company, all to find out it’d been nothing more than an elaborate façade for quasi-alcoholism and wasted potential. As irrational as the feeling was, it _hurt_.

“After breakfast, you and I are going to Stark Industries. You are going to call a meeting with the department heads and apologize for your recent absenteeism. You are going to go to all five meetings you have scheduled today. You are _not_ going to drink a single drop of booze until you’re on your own time, and you are _not_ going to let your personal life keep you from showing up at work on time tomorrow and every day after that. Do you understand me?”

Surely this was crossing some kind of boundary, talking to her boss this way, and Pepper would’ve never dreamed of acting like this in a more conventional workplace – but if Tony Stark could abandon professionalism for the sake of efficiency, Pepper could, too.

Tony’s eyes were bright with some emotion Pepper couldn’t name, though thankfully it didn’t appear to be anger. It almost seemed like…respect?

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Tony repeated, quietly this time. He sighed, jumping down from the counter, and hung his head like a chastened child. “But it’s too little, too late. Obi called me last night – as of tomorrow, or I guess today, I’m no longer the head of Stark Industries. The Board voted to remove me.”

“But it’s your company!” cried Pepper, aghast. If Tony was fired, Pepper would be out of a job again, and she could already feel that her experience at SI had ruined her for any other company. No workplace would ever be as innovative, as exciting, as open-minded as Stark Industries. Maybe Stane would keep her on as his PA…but Pepper was pretty sure she’d rather really become a hooker than work in close quarters with that man – something about him had always creeped her out.

Tony interrupted her borderline breakdown with another laugh, this time sounding much more like the bitter drunk he’d been last night. “It’s not my company, it’s my father’s. I only lucked into it through a random combination of genetics and inheritance. No matter what that will said, there’s no way Howard Stark wanted to see me ruining his pride and joy.”

“Oh, grow _up_ already!” Pepper shouted. “You can either sit around and drink yourself to an early death, pouting because Daddy didn’t love you enough, or you can get off your ass and prove him wrong!” And there were the swear words again. Pepper wondered when they’d make a reappearance. “For goodness’ sake, Tony, you graduated college before most people started high school. You were the first person to propose a viable generator for self-sustaining energy – I mean, your arc reactor could literally change the world! You have these amazing gifts that could do wonders for bringing peace and justice and equality to the world, and you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself to care. Well, I’m not gonna let that slide. No one else in the _world_ is qualified for your position – you’re one of the brightest minds of the 21 st century, and you’re not about to prove your dad and all those people that doubted you right just because you’re too afraid of failing to try.”

Tony stared at Pepper while she tried unsuccessfully to slow her racing pulse. She had no reason to be so emotionally involved – but maybe she understood where Tony was coming from. She knew what it was like to have a parent expect too much, knew the blood-chilling terror of letting them down, knew how hard it was to feel any pride at her achievements, haunted by the nagging feeling _you could have done better_. But Tony was different – Tony was smart and shining and impossibly clever, knew how to think outside the box and make any dream or idea a reality. He deserved the opportunity to show the world just how brilliant he could be. He deserved a second chance.

“Breakfast is served, Mr. Stark.”

The tray rose up once again from inside the counter, this time bearing two plates of waffles with an array of syrup bottles and a dish of butter. Tony gestured to the table wordlessly, and the two of them sat in awkward silence to eat.

While she ate, Pepper planned.

* * *

 

“And furthermore, had Howard Stark himself been removed from the board after a miscalculation of the stock market cost the company millions, Stark Industries would have never recovered after World War II to become the leader in weapons technology it is today. In short, Stark Industries has always abided by the time-honored tradition of trying and failing and trying again. It is a company that, at its core, promotes second chances and further exploration. That is why I am standing before you now, without pride or conceit, to implore you for a second chance. My father never gave up on this company – this business that was his magnum opus – and it would be remiss of me to abandon it so callously. I apologize again for my recent neglect and promise to redirect my energy towards building a better tomorrow, at the helm of this company, started by the man who always believed in me and my talents. Thank you for your time and discretion in making such a monumental decision for the good of our company.”

Pepper mouthed the last lines of Tony’s speech with him, catching his eye from the back of the boardroom. He grinned at her before nodding demurely at the Council, his usual smarmy attitude masked beneath a perfectly remorseful exterior.

Tony had been resistant to the idea of appealing to the Council at first – “Like hell am I getting on my knees for a bunch of money grubbing opportunists!” – but careful persuasion and the threat of indefinite sobriety finally won him over. Pepper wrote his speech on notecards during their commute to the office (chauffeured, as always, by the perpetually-cheerful Happy), and Tony agreed not to deviate from the tactfully prepared script on the condition that Pepper came to the meeting with him.

“I’ve been going about this all wrong, Pepper,” Tony had told her earnestly in the car, swallowing down yet another bottle of water as though needing the constant hydration in place of his usual booze (and now Pepper knew how he drank his coffee so fast in the morning, because his takeout cups were usually filled with anything _but_ hot coffee). “You’re my personal assistant. You’re the yin to my yang. You shouldn’t be behind a desk all day – you should be right in the thick of things, assisting me.  You know, personally.”

Pepper’s attention was caught by Obadiah’s sudden announcement that the Council would review Tony’s appeal, if he and Pepper would just wait outside while they put it to the vote. Pepper gave Tony a subtle thumbs up as she slipped out of the room and crossed the hall to her office. To her surprise, Tony followed.

“Great speech in there, Pepper. I really think it could’ve used a few more _Terminator_ references and maybe a guitar solo – it was a little less, how to say this tactfully… _awesome_ , than my last presentation to the board. But then again, that group of AARP rejects seems to like speeches that are drier than their balding scalps. So I guess we’re good.”

“Tony!” hissed Pepper reproachfully, though she knew it was impossible for any of the (admittedly elderly) Council members to have heard, especially as most of them seemed pretty hard of hearing. Pepper derailed that train of thought before too much of Tony’s disrespectful attitude could filter in.

“Really, though,” began Tony, looking as serious as he had in the boardroom, but infinitely more sincere. “You kind of saved my ass in there. I mean, what kind of job would I be doing if I didn’t have this? Modeling, probably, but that probably gets repetitive. And I’d miss playing with all the toys in the lab here. So, thanks, I guess. For last night, too. I hope I didn’t mess things up with your date.”

“No worries,” said Pepper, feeling a warm and genuine smile curl into her face. “It wasn’t that hot of a date anyway. This guy was so much older than his profile – ”

“Tony! Congrats!” Obadiah’s booming voice echoed across the hall, reaching their ears a second before he burst into the room. Pepper took a step back, suddenly realizing how close she and Tony had been standing. Obadiah watched the movement with narrowed eyes before continuing, “The Council decided to give you a second chance. Provided you don’t fuck anything up in the next month – that includes following all company policies” and here his eyes flickered back to Pepper, “then you’re set to keep your job!”

“Probation?” Tony whined, sounding less than thrilled, but he still reached over to give Pepper a high five. “Thanks, Obi,” he added, sounding more cheerful, “I know you must’ve really been pulling for me in there.”

“Of course,” Obadiah agreed, his voice sounding too smooth and earnest, “It was, after all, your father’s company, and Howard was like a brother to me. I’d have hated to see his wishes for the company ignored.”

Obadiah continued to babble congratulations, which Tony accepted with his usual graceful insouciance, but Pepper found herself unable to join in their good cheer. Something about Obadiah’s tone sat ill on her ears, as though Stane had genuinely been hoping for Tony’s dismissal. But he was one of Howard’s oldest friends – surely he thought of Tony as a son?

With another surge of dread, the full meaning of Obadiah’s words sank in.

Pepper was looking forward to a month of keeping _the_ Tony Stark – billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist – sober, sane, and steadfast.

It was going to be the most trying thirty days of Pepper Potts’ career.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which probation is almost over...what could possibly go wrong?

“So, what’s on the agenda for today, Ms. Potts?”

Tony’s voice was still muted with sleep as he stumbled into the kitchen, instinctively reaching for the mug of coffee JARVIS had prepared. Pepper stood next to the counter, scrolling through the list of appointments on her phone.

“You have an interview with _Times_ at nine, a fitting with Gio at 11 for next week’s award show suit, you’re meeting Colonel Rhoades for lunch at 12:30, then it’s back to work at the office until three, when R &D has a presentation for you. After that, you’re free for the evening.”

“Excellent! The being free part, that is. The rest of that sounds…dull. Hellish, actually. I’m not sure I’ll be able to live through all that.”

“Well, be sure that you do,” said Pepper, gratefully accepting the glass of orange juice that rose out of the counter, “and maybe tonight you’ll be able to unwind with a drink. _One_ drink,” she added sternly.

“The last time I was sober this long, I was in a womb for nine months,” grumbled Tony, but he offered nothing beyond his usual token protest.

The end of their probation was near – both Pepper and Tony could see the proverbial light at the end of tunnel. A few more incident-free days and they were safe. Both were eagerly, anxiously awaiting the end, for vastly different reasons: Tony so he could return to his booze and his hookups and general debauchery, and Pepper so she could return to her apartment and maybe finally get that second date with Chris.

Pepper had, throughout the probation period, unofficially and unhappily taken up residence with Tony. The decision had been reached after a night of screaming and near-breakdowns on both sides, when Pepper had JARVIS and Happy clean out all of Tony’s hidden alcohol stores. The man stocked more than a Prohibition speakeasy, but a few careful sweeps seemed to have removed every glass bottle stashed around the mansion. Pepper had been enthusiastically supportive of dumping the contents of said bottles, but when Tony mentioned that one bottle of scotch cost more than Pepper’s annual rent, she grudgingly agreed to let Happy guard the stash. She trusted Happy, of course – it was Tony she didn’t trust, and as long as his ridiculously specific store of booze existed, she had no doubts he’d do everything in his power to get to it.

After the Great Raid of 2007, as Tony had taken to muttering about it under his breath, Pepper had packed her bags and moved to one of Tony’s many spare bedrooms (after insisting the mattress, sheets, and carpet be thoroughly cleaned; she’d listened to one too many of Tony’s adventures with women to be completely comfortable on any bed in his house). She was acting as Tony’s exterior conscience, following him to every meeting, making sure he ate meals even when ensconced in his lab, keeping him sober and celibate until they had proved to the Board that Tony was capable of acting like an adult.

“You know, it’s probably gonna be one hell of hassle driving up here every morning once you leave,” commented Tony with almost exaggerated nonchalance. “Have you ever thought about moving to a closer apartment?”

Pepper frowned over the newspaper she’d started perusing after setting aside the Entertainment Section for Tony (as per their usual morning ritual). “Why would I need to come up here every morning after probation’s over? Were you planning on giving up all this hard work and getting fired _again_?” Pepper stressed the last word slightly, unleashing as she did her patented Disapproving Eyebrow that had shamed Anna into good behavior on more than one occasion.

It seemed to have a similar effect on Tony, as he sulked slightly in his chair. “ _No_ ,” he grumbled petulantly. “I’m perfectly capable of holding a job, Pepper; I _am_ a grown man, after all.”

“Then why do I need to babysit you when you’re off probation?”

“Because it’s a system that works! The old one didn’t work, obviously, so why would we revert to an obsolete model? That’s not going to improve efficiency. I mean, really Pepper, you might not be an engineer but surely you know not to mess with something good.”

The truth was, Pepper _had_ been looking into new apartments. Her current landlady hated her, the building was apparently owned by a shady government agency that wanted her to spy on her boss, the pipes were obnoxiously loud and creaky at night, and the security was so lackluster that just last month Pepper had come home to discover a drunk stranger on her couch, where he’d apparently passed out after blundering in to what he mistakenly thought was his apartment.

Her salary at Stark Industries was nothing to sneeze at; already, her first few paychecks had gotten her almost caught up on her bills and rent, as well as providing some new, SI-worthy business clothes.

Still, the red-circled date of Anna’s wedding was zooming closer, and Pepper was putting all the money she didn’t spend paying off debts in an old jam jar labeled “England Air Fare.” Anna had all but demanded that Pepper stay (“rent free!”) with one of Chad’s friends, so all she really had to pay for was her plane ticket. And her bridesmaid dress, as Anna had insisted that Pepper was her best friend in the world and obviously the only choice for her maid of honor. Pepper suspected Anna still felt guilty about ditching her and skipping the country.

“I thought you two were eloping?” asked Pepper, during one of their too-infrequent phone calls. “Now you want a big white wedding?”

“Oh, Pepper,” laughed Anna in an annoyingly superior way, “When you get married, you’ll see. It just wouldn’t have felt right without all my friends and family there. So yes, you _have_ to come!”

Searching out a new apartment had therefore taken the backburner until the wedding was over, which Pepper didn’t expect Tony to understand. She doubted her boss had ever had to save up for anything; he had enough money to buy his own plane, so struggling to buy a plane ticket would be laughable for him.

“Come on, Pep.” Tony was suddenly standing, leaning to hang his head over the edge of her paper. “I really think we’re doing good here. You can’t jump ship now.”

“I’ll look into it,” Pepper promised, folding the paper and getting to her feet. “Right now, we need to get going if you’re going to make your meeting with the _Times_.”

Tony sighed dramatically, but he didn’t raise the subject again as the pair climbed into Happy’s car, and there was no time to mention apartments or moving between Happy’s cheerful remarks about the weather and boisterous commentary on some sports game or another that Pepper hadn’t had time to watch. Sometimes Pepper privately thought she worked twice the hours Tony did.

* * *

 

Pepper was having a productive morning, having declined Tony’s invitation to sit in on his interview. After pawning her boss off on the poor interviewer, who was probably not adequately prepared to deal with Tony’s attitude this early in the morning, Pepper took to her desk and turned on her three computer screens.

The amount of technology that she, as a lowly PA, was expected to deal with had nearly overwhelmed her in the beginning of her time at SI. Now, Pepper felt like an old pro. One screen dealt exclusively with Tony’s public image, where Pepper approved his various speeches and comments to the press, set up interviews, and fit as many events as possible in Tony’s already busy schedule in order to appease the hags that worked in PR. They were a bitter, nagging group, but Pepper could hardly blame them for being jaded where Tony was concerned – his escapades from his youth (and even some more recent misadventures) were legendary and the bane of SI’s publicists.

One screen was for correspondence with the various R&D departments within the building. From dealing with requests for increased budgets to receiving blueprints for new, experimental technology, Pepper’s job was to deal with what she could, then prioritize the remaining items and forward them to Tony.

The final screen was a direct line to JARVIS, so Pepper could ascertain Tony’s location, upload schematics to Tony’s home lab, and manage Tony’s personal correspondence. Currently, Pepper was utilizing JARVIS’s ability to function as the world’s most effective search engine by having him compare airline prices for her. She needed to book her flight to England soon, so she could plan Tony’s life around her absence.

She was dealing with yet another complaint from Human Resources regarding the policy on interdepartmental romances (and Pepper was _positive_ there was an ulterior motive behind the objections) when the door to Tony’s office flew open and the reporter from the _Times_ came striding out in a storm of fury.

“I absolutely cannot be _lieve_ you! To think the fate of our country’s defense rests in the hands of an immature, irresponsible _ass_ like you!”

Tony was trailing sheepishly after the reporter, blathering platitudes, but the reporter was having none of it. She stomped to the nearest open elevator and hopped in, throwing her visitor’s pass on the ground as the doors closed.

Pepper blinked in shock as a small crowd gathered, drawn by the same morbid magnetism that captured stares at the scenes of car crashes.

“So!” said Tony, clapping his hands. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Pepper caught Obadiah’s thunderous expression from across the room, propelling her to her feet instantly. “Inside, now,” she hissed at Tony, grabbing the sleeve of his suit (that probably cost more than her first car) and dragging him back into his office.

Pepper plopped into the chair in front of Tony’s desk, while Tony decided to sit right on the desk itself, crossing his legs and looking at Pepper with an innocent expression that didn’t fool her for a second.

“What,” began Pepper in an eerily calm voice that never failed to strike fear into the hearts of her audience, “was _that_?”

“That was Lynette Peters.”

“Lynette…?” The name sounded familiar, but Pepper wasn’t sure where she’d heard it before. “Who…oh. Oh, _no_.”

Lynette Peters. The confusion and frustration of Pepper’s first day suddenly filled her mind, along with the image of a half-naked woman screaming and throwing shoes while Pepper cowered behind a dry-cleaning bag and manila envelope containing an NDA.

“You slept with the reporter from the _Times_?” Tony was absolutely unbelievable sometimes.

“In my defense, her occupation never really came up. We didn’t spend a lot of the night talking, you see.” Tony fell silent when at Pepper’s glare.

“What did you say to her that upset her so much?” After all, Tony had been with her for over an hour before she’d stormed out.

“Well, I may have flirted with her. And uh, implied that I didn’t remember sleeping with her before. Oh, and I might have mentioned that it must not have been that memorable, because she didn’t even look familiar.”

“ _Tony_!” Pepper jumped to her feet. “That’s awful, and just plain mean! Oh, PR is going to have my head for this one – who knows _what_ she’s going to put in that article now!”

“Oh, her editor won’t let her put anything too racy in there – it’s the _Times_ , not some trashy tabloid.”

“Tony, do I need to remind you that you’re still on probation? Which means I’m still on probation, and an unfavorable interview mixed with office-wide disturbance isn’t helping either of us.”

“I hate to interrupt,” came JARVIS’s smooth voice through the office’s intercom system, “but I’ve finished your cross search, Ms. Potts, and found a discounted flight to London that needs to be reserved as soon as possible. It’s a limited time offer and almost $200 under the budget you requested.”

“Wait, you’re going to England? When are you going to England? Why are you going to England?”

“Ms. Potts? Would you like me to book your flight?”

“Tony!”

Oh, great, Pepper thought. Just what this situation needed.

Obadiah pushed his way into the office, smiling in a rather painful way. “Tony!” he repeated, “What on earth did I just witness?”

“Okay,” said Pepper, taking the situation in hand. “Tony, you have a fitting in forty minutes – have Happy take you there now, Gio won’t mind that you’re early. JARVIS, put the flight details up on my screen and send an email to Laura in PR. Tell her to meet us in Mr. Stark’s conference room so she, Mr. Stane, and I can address this morning’s altercation. Hold the rest of my calls until this is dealt with, please.”

“As you wish, Ms. Potts,” agreed JARVIS. Tony simply stared until Pepper made a shooing motion with her hand, hoping her eyes conveyed her urgency. She had no clue how she was going to smooth this incident over, but she knew she’d have better luck without Tony there to make flippant remarks.

Tony left the office, pausing at Pepper’s desk and tapping at her third screen for a second before strolling to the elevators, waving at the diminished crowd of curious workers.

Pepper took a deep breath before turning to Obadiah with a calm smile. “Now, right this way, Mr. Stane. Let’s get this misunderstanding settled.”

* * *

 

“They’ve extended your probation.”

Tony looked up from the steak he was sawing into small, precise cubes and frowned.

“Well, that’s not that bad, then?” His voice rose at the end, making the statement into a question.

Pepper sighed, pushing her plate away. JARVIS’s cooking was impeccable, as always, but Pepper couldn’t eat when her stomach was still twisted with disappointment.

“They’ve extended it another _month_ , Tony. Which means I can’t leave you alone for another thirty days, which means I’m going to miss my best friend’s wedding. Which is why I was going to England, since you were wondering.”

Tony shrugged. “It’s not a big deal – ”

“It’s a big deal to me!” Pepper snapped. “I haven’t seen Anna in months, and she was counting on me being there. Just because you don’t care about these types of things doesn’t mean – ”

“Whoa, there,” said Tony, lifting his hands in surrender. “It’s not a big deal, because I already booked your flight. Mine too. There’s a research facility in Wales,” Tony added loudly, seeing Pepper about to protest, “that Stark Industries has been thinking about acquiring for a while now. This would be a great time to go check it out! You can go to your friend’s wedding, keep an eye on me, and SI gets some fresh blood. Everybody wins.”

“But…” Pepper began. She wasn’t sure why she was protesting – this really could be the solution to her problems. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Don’t worry, Pep,” added Tony, stealing the half-eaten baked potato off Pepper’s plate, “I love weddings.”

Pepper made a note to Skype Anna with the news rather than call. She just _had_ to see her friend’s face when she found out that _the_ Tony Stark was going to be a plus-one at her wedding.


End file.
